


there you are.

by tukiaa



Category: DARLING In The FRANXX (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bittersweet, Canon Gay Character, Canon Lesbian Character, F/F, Fluff, Fluffy, Fluffy Ending, Lesbian Character, Melancholy, Short One Shot, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22930066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukiaa/pseuds/tukiaa
Summary: ➸ also: whenever you close your eyes, you get a glimpse into your soulmate's life.
Relationships: Ichigo | 015/Ikuno | 196
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	there you are.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enbymitsuba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbymitsuba/gifts).



> ➸ this is my first piece of work on here + i'm new to the ao3 scene so please be patient lol
> 
> ➸ i hope you enjoy this fluffy little one shot of the relationship Studio Trigger never gave to us

The average human blinks 28,800 times a day. Open, close. Repeat.

I see her 28,800 times a day.

I can't recall when they started. Maybe when I was born, and my eyes first saw the light of the hospital room. Maybe then, when I felt what it was like to truly be alive, I saw her. 

She stayed by my side from then on. My visions of us back then are limited, but I remember the important parts. I learned to ride a bike with her. I went to school with her. I ate with her. I laughed with her. I begged her not to cry at night when I tossed and turned in my sleep, barely being able to see in her cloudy vision of tears when her body racked with sobs. She's always so emotional when no one's around to witness her weaknesses but me; it pains me to see her like that. I reach out for her to try and bring her close to my chest, and whisper small little secrets that would only be shared between the both of us. But, when I outstretch my fingers for her, she's gone. It's torture. Absolute torture, constraining around my heart when I feel just the ghost of her lay beside me on my bed.

I only see her when I close my eyes. I only see her life without me when I blink. 

Today, I'm going to close the gap.

The air blows through my frighteningly thin cardigan, and I hold it tighter to my body. The city had always been intimidating to me. I see hundreds, no, thousands of people zip past me as I clumsily make my way to the bullet train, the waves of city-goers walking faster and in larger groups than my town in the country. And to add even more salt to the wound, I stick out like a sore thumb here. Tokyo residents walk with purpose here, they don't look like they care for you when they gift you a quick glance in your direction upon bumping into you, before speed-walking to cram themselves into their train. It's scary, and it's impossible to even fathom that this is how Ikuno gets to school in the city. 

Ikuno. It's a name I always whispered to both of us - more so me - before going to sleep. Ikuno. I learned it on the first day of school, when the teachers called for roll. After I raised my hand to say that I was present, I laid my head to rest and closed my eyes, just in time for Ikuno's introduction. A small exchange, really. A measly "Ikuno?" with an equally as meek "Present ma'am!" The frailest of dialogue. But the name soon began to mean the world to me as time swung by.

I press my back against the wall of the subway, calming myself down from the overstimulation as I hang my head back to make eye contact with the blinding lights overhead. There were too many people here, and it was beginning to get to me. Slowly, I close my eyes and get one of my hopefully last looks into Ikuno's life from afar.

She's standing near the top of a staircase. It's leading downwards to the subway. Her foot taps impatiently, and a mischievous, small breeze passes by.

"Get over here, silly."

I open my eyes, bringing my head back down and feeling my heart do that thing again. It's tightening, and a deep hunger lingers bubbling at the pit of my stomach, though I made sure to eat today. 

My legs carry me now, and I'm matching the speed of everyone else as I make the turns and go around the sharp corners Ikuno had directed me to pass by the night before. I almost drifted off that night before I heard her usually sickly lulling voice chastise me for my terrible sleeping habits. Is it bad that that just made me want her more? That I just wanted to hear her get mad at me without having to close my eyes to do so? 

My pace gets faster, and I'm running in the direction of the sign that had guided me to the right train. I have to cling onto the pathetic material of my olive-green cardigan now, in fear that it'll fly away. I'm not even there but I can already feel her. Her hair is probably silky, and falls in between my fingers like snow. Her cheeks are pale with a slight rose tinge to them, and her skin is so smooth I'd be afraid to even touch it as it looks so fragile. I want to caress her, I want to hold her, I want her to lock eyes with me and give me the same warm smile she gives to herself in the mirror to cheer herself up before going to school. 

"I'm coming, Ikuno."

What came after wasn't so pretty or pleasant. As anyone would know, Japan's trains have always been infamous for its packed spaces. One hot body after another, squeezed and fitted like puzzles in the transit. So, with great hesitancy that was led only by a deep passion hidden away in the farthest corners of my heart, I delicately and shyly stepped into the bustling and tight train car. 

The experience is as uncomfortable as they make it sound, me trying to maneuver my body into such a straining position as to not press against anyone, before ultimately getting pushed into a poor guy who couldn't have been a year older than me. 

"I'm so sorry..." I whisper, shrinking into my cardigan and staring down at my feet as I begin to perspire through my hands. We're all packed like sardines here, and it's getting harder to breathe with someone else's coat pressing against my nose. My nails are digging into my palms, and I don't realize I've been holding in a breath since I got on here until my throat begins to burn and itch.

It's scary. It really is. All I feel is someone else's damp, hot breath unsettling the hairs on my neck and I feel myself inhale again. Too many people. Too little space. I desire nothing more than to crouch down, head between my legs, and sob against my jeans until everyone leaves. Maybe then I'll be able to breathe again. Like a child, I wish for the world to swallow me up and throw me into oblivion.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Such a baby. Just hang in there a few more minutes, you're almost there."

I keep them shut. I like what it looks like over there, Ikuno. Distract me for a little while longer, will you? 

She's still standing in the same spot. The breeze is still whistling up and down the staircase, blowing at her skirt malevolently. She begins to hum, the tune blending in with the wind and harmonizing so enchantingly it takes every bone in my body to keep myself where I am and not start busting out in a sprint towards her.

"I have so many stories to tell you. Please come soon, Ichi-"

She cuts herself off.

I always wondered why she'd never say my name. Even when I told it to her, even when I stayed up at night and begged her to repeat what I said.

"Just three syllables!"

"No."

"Come on, Ikuno. Please!"

"No."

When I asked her why, she simply said she was waiting for the right time. Nothing more, nothing less. That was 5 years ago, and I didn't bring it up again since then.

I'm snapped out of my trance when I hear shuffling and see everyone begin to pile out of the train, letting out like an endless ocean waiting to sweep you up if you're not careful enough.

"Excuse me, I just need to get through. Sorry." I bob and weave, ducking under the various bags and arms, eyeing the staircase leading up like tunnel vision. I say her name over and over in my head, my instincts all focusing on her, taking me to her.

One step. Two steps. Three. I count 23 when I stumble forward and into the calm after the storm. The waves ceased crashing and hoarsely screamed their last goodbye, and I'm here, the only noise being a serene, wispy gust of wind. Footsteps patter next to me, gaining speed the longer they go on. Two. Two arms wrap around me from behind, something warm digging itself into the dip of my collarbone. I waste no time in turning around, cupping her cheeks delicately. 

Is this real?

I rub my thumb in circles around her left cheek. I was right. Her skin is soft, and it feels just as fragile as I imagined it to be.

Her eyes are full of emotion, and something pools at the corners. She smiles.

This is real, right?

I'm not thinking. How can I? How can I think when she's right here in front of me? How could I have held back my instinct to press my lips against her ever so gently as if they belonged there? 

Her lips are soft, just as I'd dreamed they were. They taste faintly of the morning, when the sun is arising from its slumber and you with it. They taste like when those hues of pink and yellow begin to fade into existence, and you look over to see her sleeping soundly, her hair in front of her face and her chest rising up and down slowly. 

They taste like the promise of a new day.

She pulls away from me, much to both of our reluctance. She looks so perfect. She looks like the person I want to fulfill my promises to. She looks like the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Her voice breaks the silence.

The calm after the storm.

"Ichigo."


End file.
